Not Meant to Be Found
by JaneAire
Summary: The whole gang is back in a new story about a new found treasure... just without pirates.. and craziness. Chpt. Five!
1. Chapter 1

Roxton? I think you should get over here!" Marguerite beckoned Roxton as she began to dig around a small box. They were excavating a cave that had recently been uncovered after a plateau shift.

"Well, what is it Marguerite?"Roxton said while shifting his rifle to his left side.

It looks...well. Ancient. It's Roman... or Greek. No Egyptian.. I've really never seen anything like it. Do you see how it glows.." Marguerite pointed to the outside a small chest still half-buried in the dark mounds of earth. Both explorers were situated in the middle of a dark cave, and the small chest illuminated most of the area. Marguerite seemed baffled as she tried to decipher the confusing mixture of hieroglyphics and other strange unfamiliar images.

The hunter bent down but remained detached as he continued to scan the area for unfriendlys. They had seen a large tribe shift their movements to the left of the cave as they continued their search for a way home. They had been in the area for a few days now, and had a small camp just south in a far safer environment.

"I'll fetch Challenger, and you stay safe" Roxton said as he handed the rifle to Marguerite and eyed her sceptically. "Don't open that until I get back."

"I know, I know" Marguerite said as her hands went up in agreement. They had had a close call the other day, a small battle with inbred ape-men and she had taken a bullet in the scuffle. It tore through the skin of her lower calf, and created a scar that rivalled her arrow-given one. The hunter had yet to leave her alone for more than ten minutes. He had also given the young reporter a long chat on riffle maintenance, and an intense lesson on shooting accuracy. The journalist wouldn't be spending quality time with Marguerite for some while, and Roxton saw to that personally. His overprotective streak was in full blaze, and Marguerite had yet to quench it. Her leg ached horribly, but the bleeding had stopped, the healing had begun, and she reassured Malone of her forgiveness.

"That glow is most fascinating" Challenger said quietly as he examined the chest carefully. He poked and prodded the dense metal of the structure, and then just stared at the small box. "What do these characters mean Marguerite?"

"Well. That one there," Marguerite said while pointing to the top letter, "means temptation but it's in an entirely different language and seems to have been added at a different time, see the darker age patterns?"

"It's safe to say it's been passed down, through the generations. They've added languages to help with understanding. Can you read anything else?"

"Below that is Greek, means God Rage... or Wrath... let's go with Retribution."

"Most interesting"

I'm sure it is George, but we've got to get out of here. The ape-men have recircled and are getting a tad too close for comfort. Come on, we're going back to camp. I'm sure Malone and Veronica have made a lovely meal."

Raptor and Fruit, to be sure." The heiress commented dryly as she dusted off her khaki skirt and joined Roxton. "But we are coming back, right Lord Roxton?"

Anything for you, my dear." Roxton said quietly with an evil glint in his eye.

"We'll see about that." Marguerite countered and then beckoned for the scientist to follow. "Come on, George. We've apparently done enough exploring for one day. Time to eat Raptor and listen to Veronica's recipes again."

"hmm, yes." The scientist said idly as he further studied the box in earnest rapture. "I'll see you tomorrow"

The three explorers made their way back up the sturdy cliff, through a series of intricate tunnels and byways that had been explained in full by the jungle beauty. It was either that or make camp with ape men and some of the more unruly members of plateau existence. They would have gone straight home, but the hunter ruled out any extravagant voyages or long hauls, because of the recuperating Marguerite. The scientist was on point, with Marguerite secured safely in between, with Roxton at the rear. All had rifled in tow.

When they finally made it back to the small escarpment, high on the bluffs of the plateau they were tired and relatively dirty.

"I think I saw a pond back there, I'll just get cleaned up before supper." Marguerite said as they let down their packs, hers much lighter due to some strategic packing on the part of Roxton.

"You can't go alone, Marguerite" Roxton said low, clearly meant for her ears only, as he bent closer to his injured companion.

"And Just what are you planning, Lord Roxton?" The heiress replied with raised eyebrow and a wry smile on her lips.

The hunter just returned the smile, and secured more bullets into his belt pocket. He then dutifully followed Marguerite into the bushes and towards the small pond.

About half way there, the hunter stopped short and broke their conjoined silence. "Ape men" The heiress sensed the intrusion, and backed up slightly to lean on her hunter. Roxton silently shifted for tree cover, and to cover the heiress with his riffle. His arms were secured around her and he bent his head as he leaned down to kiss her neck.

"John? Ape men?"

What ape men Marguerite?" Roxton said as a small grin etched across his face. She in turn swivelled her head around, and met his lips with hers. He placed on hand on the back of her head, and eased her back onto the tree. He pressed them together, and elicited a small shaky exhale from Marguerite.

"Leg?"

Yeah. Must have pushed it a tad today."

The hunter just groaned in apologies and reluctantly backed away from his heiress. He grabbed her hand and supported her until they had made the rest of the way to the pond. When they had made to their destination, the hunter noticeably relaxed and placed his charge upon the slippery rocks. The small cove was protected by high rock walls, and the water lapped up on the rocks that surrounded it. It was a small underground spring, heated by the plateau sun, and was clear of any dangers. It was clearly the perfect spot for the two explorers.

The hunter had just stationed himself at his guard duty, when he heard a small bang and a splash in the pool.

"Marguerite?" Roxton whispered as he turned around, and found the heiress sitting by the pond boots undone, skirt hiked up to her knees.

"Something you want, John?"

I heard noises... Thought you fell in or something"

Hmm... Somehow I didn't think throwing a rock in would be so worrisome."

The hunter just nodded as he eyed the heiress. He saw the dark red crimson blood seeping from her leg, and he was immediately beside her.

"God, Marguerite. I didn't think it was this bad. The bleedings begun again."

I've had worse, John." The heiress replied nonchalantly as she unbuttoned her blouse and revealed her milky white skin to the hunter's gaze.

There were hospitals in England, Marguerite."

Sure John." The heiress stated a tad less than reassuring. The hunter just gave her a worried look in return and hoped for some further insight.

"Hospitals aren't always the best choice for people like me"

The hunter nodded in silent agreement, as he helped the heiress stand up and then he picked her up wordlessly. He walked slowly into the pond's flowing waters, with Marguerite securely in his grasp. This way her leg stayed both motionless and no pressure was put on it, and it got clean. The heiress stopped fighting his strength as she succumbed to the lovely feeling of utter safety. They swirled around for a while, until the hunter heard a distinct crunch of boots on leaves, and he regained his post as watch dog. The heiress continued her soaking in private, both grateful and resentful for the intrusion. Minutes later, Malone came into view, carefully hiding his eyesight with a hand over his face, as he voiced news of dinner. There was a distinct red of embarrassment in his face as he eyed the heiress strewn clothing.

The hunter bent down riffle within arm's reach, as he secured his hands around the heiress' waist and hauled her up from the pool. He then helped her regain her clothing and then wordlessly carried her the way back. Her fighting had long gone, and her sheer dependence on him had created a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. Dependence only led to disappointment.

* * *

just a new story.. thoughts would be nice.


	2. Chapter 2

It was long since nightfall, all explorers were bedded down except for the imperceptible watchmen, namely John Roxton.

John?" Marguerite said as she approached Roxton, who was leaning against a tree with riffle griped in hand.

"Can't sleep?" Roxton said with a sincere half-smile on his lips. He knew her game.

"We have to leave this place."

Roxton's playful attitude dropped instantly and was replaced by the determined hunter.

"What did the box say Marguerite?" A hint of distrust voiced in his sentiment. He knew her, and the way she dealt with danger was a protection of lies.

"I've had another dream"

Roxton winced inwardly at his callous thoughts. She really was trying. He remembered the last dream she had, deep in the depths of the earth shrouded in a mysterious cave hell bent on killing them. He also knew she almost never dreamt anything, mostly because sleep was an elusive foe for Marguerite.

Should I be worried, Marguerite?"

They locked eyes and she nodded almost imperceptibly. He instantly knew what she was dreaming about. His death, or invariably some separation, but ultimately he was in danger. If she herself was in danger, she would voice no concern, merely throw about some wry comments and witty repartee and retreat into solitude. But the fact that she was voluntarily sharing information, and rather personal information at that, was a very bad sign.

"How soon?"

"I don't know...just be careful. I just saw fragments ... little scenes to be wary of. There is going to be a choice and neither outcome is entirely wholesome."

Who's doing the choosing?"

"I am"

They locked eyes again, and the hunter saw pure unadulterated fear in the murky depths of her eyes. He kissed her forehead, and she in turn hugged him forcefully.

Who are the key players?" Roxton whispered into Marguerite's hair, as he held her to him.

Strangers."

And Roxton again knew instantly. She was to choose between him, and something else. But someone was doing the forcing, someone they had yet to meet. At least with this vision, dream.. Alternate reality... whatever it was, at least they had an advantage. She knew the people.. Saw their faces... At least the hunter wanted to believe that this wasn't once again another illustrious lie. The fear still lay in her eyes as she kissed his upper lip, ruffled his hair, and went back to sleep. Veronica would be up soon to take over guard duty, with Malone hot on her tail, and privacy was essential to remaining peace.

The hunter merely pushed his hat back on his head, straightened his shirt and kept up his vigilant watch.

When morning came, Marguerite woke groggy and disoriented as always, bitterly disappointed in her sleep. The hunter had woken up first, making sure he was at a proper distance from the enchanting beauty, fully knowing that in sleep he tended to shift towards her.

When everyone succeeded in waking up, they ate breakfast in companionable silence, and then packed for their journeys.

"Veronica found some more of those warrior masks, that tribe gave Summerlee, and we're going to go check that out" The young reporter said rather too loudly to give his idyll time alone with Veronica a task, she noticeably chuckled and he reddened slightly. Marguerite smirked slightly and held her tongue.

She had lashed out recently and was currently making amends. They had been spending more and more time together alone and yet when she and Roxton had volunteered for a hunting expedition the reporter insisted he accompany them. She naturally quipped a stinging sentiment about the two, and received a warning glance from Roxton, and sheer anger from Malone. She saw Veronica shift her hands to her back, it went unnoticed by everyone, but Marguerite knew that she was securing her knives. Trouble in paradise it seems indeed.

Marguerite barely noticed the rest of the chatter, something about interesting plant life beside their new cave, unfriendlys nearby, and when they'd be back.

The heiress just sipped at her coffee quietly and tried to block the sheer pain radiating off her leg. The bleeding had stopped yes, but apparently some nerve damage was still causing quite the ruckus. It wasn't the first time, and with her lifestyle it probably wasn't the last. Whatever she was, spy, seductress, villain, vigilante, explorer, lover, it surely wasn't a pain-free life.

Her curiosity was entirely peaked by this new discovery, and this new dream. Marguerite had sensed something amiss when she first encountered the cave, this sense that she had been their previously. The notion itself wasn't raising any warning flags, which is a testament of their odd lives on the plateau. If previous lives or reincarnations were so normal to their plateau lives, Marguerite scoffed at the idea that they would ever fit back into English society. Or at least her colleagues. Marguerite had never really fit in, unless she was lying through her teeth of course. The pain still itched at her, as she touched a faded scar on her back. Time well spent, indeed.

She pushed both the new pain and the old to the recesses of her brain, got up and followed the others down the slope once again.

Roxton was on lookout, while Challenger and Marguerite further explored the cave, and their weird little box thing. Roxton hated the idea of digging at other people's treasure, and rather detested the passionate stance Marguerite took to it. She had this otherworldly look to her eyes when she discovered something of worth. It took over her entire being, her eyes no longer held their passion, they were merely clouded with greed, and something else uncharitable. She was Marguerite, but wasn't entirely Marguerite. At least she wasn't the Marguerite he admired.

He was on full alert. They hadn't the best luck with caves, and to be sure this one would be no different. The last times they had barely escaped with their lives intact, but Marguerite wasn't in top condition and that threw in an unwanted variable to their fight.

When Roxton heard a faint groan in the cave, followed by a sharp distinct yelp from a riffle, he abandoned his post and fled towards the impending danger. His thoughts immediately shifted to his heiress, trying to feel out the connection he had with her. When he finally made it to the innards of the cave, he found Marguerite lying prone against the wall, her head brimming brightly with blood, Challenger against the wall with a knife against his throat, and about twenty rather unfriendly natives scurrying about. A European man entered the cave from the back somewhere and ran his eyes over the scene. Roxton stood at the opening, riffle pointing at the stranger as his eyes scanned the darkened room.

"Lord John Roxton I presume? Riffle down." the man commanded, while keeping eye contact but shifting his own riffle towards Marguerite's head in a brusque manner.

Roxton obeyed with a grunt as he moved closer towards the heiress.

"You're safe now... You're okay." Roxton whispered into her ear and she merely nodded dumbly.

"Hardly. Damn flesh wound." Marguerite said loudly for all to hear. But she then leaned towards Roxton and whispered into his ear, "Vision was right."


	3. Chapter 3

John?" Marguerite whispered as Roxton loomed over here, both inspecting her injuries yet again, and attempting to get a good night's sleep. It was dark in their cave; Challenger slumped soundly as their rather unfriendly companions stood watch at both the front and the back entrance of their new little home.

"What is it Marguerite?"

The woman replied by adjusting her arms from behind her to flash her newly brandished handcuffs.

"Iron"

"Legend has it that iron has power over supernatural beings" The hunter's face grimaced as he replied Marguerite's own words. They were first uttered in a small cave that became a tomb for a rather unyielding demon.

John, it's inscribed. Release not the demon within."

"Surely, they can't believe you're a demon."

John... Look at the bindings." The heiress shifted once more and the hunter squinted to see the handiwork better.

"There's no lock... hardly any seal"

They melted the metal together."

Their eyes met, and her pain was transferred instantly._ They meant busines_s.

'You tell me you have nothing to do with this, have no idea why... haven't taken anything that doesn't belong to you. - and I'll believe you."

The heiress scoffed lightly, turned to her hunter straight on and whispered. "For once John, I am innocent."

The hunter nodded sharply, leaned back and allowed the woman to lean on him.

"That language they speak... the look on your face... you can't understand them can you?"

"No...John I can't. I hear the words... I know the meaning... but somehow I can't understand."

Maybe it'll come to you"

"I don't get it. I've always been able to speak, write, listen, whatever language this damn plateau has thrown at us. Always, John. I instantly know exactly the right inflections, after a sentence or two. These people... they had whole conversations right out in the open... nothing. It was like they knew..."

Knew what Marguerite?"

"That I wouldn't understand."

They seemed to know a lot about us."

Not us, John. Me."

Don't you think you're overestimating a little?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper, her eyelids half-closed, and her head hung low.

My birthmark. They called it _A mark of Ca__in. _They knew..." at this her voice cracked with tension "about my certificate. " At Roxton's confused facial expression the heiress cocked a wry grin and uttered "birth certificate."

After a few tense moments of silence, the hunter bent down and whispered into Marguerite's ear, "What were those symbols on your bonds?"

It's Hebrew, John. And technically they're numbers... although the Hebrew Alphabet can be both... Gimel and Dalet or three and four."

What do you think that means?" The hunter said with an exasperated look on his face.

Just another mystery of this godforsaken place."

The hunter just set his jaw soundly and muttered, "_We_ will be just fine." The heiress added near silently,

"You will be"


	4. Chapter 4

"Sorry to wake you chap, but the natives can get worrisome"

Roxton opened one eye and spotted the stranger standing above Challenger, boot poised to kick.

"Tell us what you want and maybe we'll be a bit more forthcoming" Roxton said in a booming voice.

The stranger wheeled around gracefully and noticed the English lord slumped against the wall.

"Why Lord John Roxton, one would assume you'd know everything. Surely Miss Krux could... illuminate you further." the man replied briskly.

Roxton forced a pleasant smile and then retreated his gaze from the stranger onto the unconscious form of Marguerite. She had passed out late into the night, terror and pain usually made a bad combination. He could wait.

Roxton returned his scrutiny to the stranger in their midst. He was tall, probably taller than himself, definitely European, but his voice held a tint of something else. He was almost ashen in appearance, and hair held a golden-reddish hue. He wore entirely all black save for a pale grey holster. His eyes held no malice, only amusement and faint determination. He was the kind of man who'd kill you, then drink tea with your mother.

"Why aren't I chained?" Roxton asked of the stranger.

"Because you will behave so long as Marguerite is preoccupied in bondage. Yes, yes we know all about you two. Dangerous hunter, equally dangerous heiress- quite the combination. But, and this you really should take to heart, you try anything and she's dead. Quite simple, though proven effective, I might say." The man nodded and lifted his teacup in mock salute.

Roxton nodded back slightly, and swallowed the dry lump that formed in his throat. Veronica and Ned should be arriving shortly. _They'd have noticed our disappearance by now, and should be making their way anytime soon. _

"We learn anything?" the hunter startled somewhat upon hearing the voice next to him.

"Nothing promising. How's the leg, head?"

Oh just peachy. Challenger?"

'Fraid the Old boy's out cold."

Some guys have all the luck." Marguerite said dryly.

The hunter chuckled somewhat at their attempt at banter, it was something they both relied on to keep them grounded.

"I'm going to go check on him, you stay right there."

"Like I have any choice in the matter." the heiress grumbled quietly.

Marguerite watched as the hunter locked eyes with their captor, who in turn nodded slightly, and then crossed the short distance of their cave.

"Challenger?" The –ER of his name being clipped like always so it sounded like an –AR. Really the name sounded more American than it ever could in British. She watched as Roxton delicately lifted the scientists head, and proposed he take a drink from his canteen.

"Where in Blazes are we?"

Cave, George. You got a pretty nasty bump on the head." Roxton said more to the captor than to the injured man.

"I will be alright, John. Nothing to worry about here-"

Staring to sound like Marguerite there old Boy." Roxton said with a chuckle.

And what is wrong with that?" Marguerite countered with a brief smile on her lips.

Absolutely nothing." Roxton said in a returning smile.

"Sorry to break up this little reunion, but there's things to do," and in a quieter voice he added, "People to sell."

The stranger made a short gesture with his hands and the natives quickly paraded Roxton and Challenger, while carrying the injured Marguerite, out of the cave. Marguerite strained her head to see a second pack of natives, uncover and load the strange box out of the earth and secure it in a wooden box. She was almost thrilled to see the thing follow them into the unknown.

--

Oh, Brother. Not again." Marguerite said as she woke to find herself in yet another cave. She'd been here before, brought back her favourite reporter from the dead there in fact. Standing stones and everything.

"You've been here before? Oh, this is perfect. Chance is a spiteful little devil isn't she."

You're so sure she's a she?" Marguerite said while lowering her lashes in a rueful smile.

Ha! I've heard of your talents, my dear. Trust me, they'll not work. Like Eve before you, I trust no woman."

You don't need trust to have a little fun." The heiress said with a sly smirk.

Oh, aren't you the little minx? I was told you were a handful, but really you've outdone yourself."

And to whom do I owe my thanks?"

Good information like that is hard to find. Besides you'll know soon enough." The stranger said while turning away from her place against yet another cave wall.

Marguerite watched him until he retreated from the cave itself.

She then spun her head in the direction of Roxton. He was sitting up purposefully, back prone, and eyes closed.

She knew he'd been listening.

John?" even to her, her voice sounded small.

Right here, Marguerite." Roxton said while opening his eyes briefly to take in her sight. Her clothes were rumpled, bandages misplaced, and he was certain she was upset with herself.

He slid himself over the rough ground until he was at her side.

"I might be losing my edge." The heiress commented quietly.

"Some things change Marguerite, some people even do." He said as he kissed her temple quickly.

Marguerite just nodded dumbly and watched as Roxton readjusted her clothing, and checked her injuries.

God," she breathed out. "How did we get here?"

I wouldn't know Marguerite, I was blindfolded."

She chuckled at his deliberative misunderstanding. He knew that she'd be required to explain in detail, and he might gain some information.

"What of this Baxter fellow?"

Baxter?" the heiress said with a hint of fear in her voice.

The uh... the natives keep calling him Baxter."

Oh. Baxter in their language means, well, something along the lines of tyrant." The heiress replied without looking in the eyes of her hunter.

Yes, I'm sure that's what it means." Roxton replied with a sceptical eye. "You wouldn't be hiding anything now would you, Marguerite?'

Me? Of course not."

Uh Huh." Was the only reply Roxton could stomach. She was hiding something indeed; however he decided not to push it. Injury plagued and relentlessly tired, the explorer wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and surrender to sleep.

--

"What the hell?" Roxton said as his eyes shot open. The room had illuminated so greatly he couldn't see two feet in front of him. The bright white glare shone from the middle of the room. Sometime during his nap, Marguerite had been taken from him and placed upon the middle circle. He'd be damned if he remembered how.

He squinted to see her face amidst the blinding light. No emotion was showing. And in an instant she disappeared from sight.

--


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

What the hell?!" Marguerite shouted amidst the commotion in the cave. The light was burning her eyes, but she kept shifting to see Roxton. All she wanted was one hint of him to get her stomach to settle. Really the man did wonders to her constitution. There she was all alone, half-naked and sprawling on a damned stone slab surrounded by giant walls of brightness in a cave known to recollect possessed spirits captured by a crazed lunatic, and she was worried about the bloody hunter. If her colleagues back home could see her now. Well she would probably be dead, the way she left and all. Best not to think about that currently.

Marguerite tried to shield her eyes from the intense glare but her vision just blurred and shot even more intense pain her way. She grimaced hard, shouting now out of pain and fear rather than abrupt loneliness. _Where the hell was everyone and why the hell wasn't anyone looking for me?_ Marguerite let loose a string of vile and mostly colourful words as she tried in vain to button her shirt. She didn't really know when they'd come undone, but she figured the 'unconscious' Roxton had something to do with it. Really the man could play a savage. A tug of pain jolted through her system and she remembered that she was bound. With bands of iron. Bands of iron that are engraved. Engraved to warn people that she was in fact a demon. Could this day get any better?

_Why the hell were we in a damn cave anyway?_ The heiress was sure as hell not conducting any more damn séances.

Then she saw him. At first just the corner of his hat. That hat would follow her everywhere she liked to think. And probably the man that wore it. Not that she wanted to test out this theory just right now. He could stay just where he was, and hopefully whatever contraption she got herself into this time, would just walk on by without him. She then saw all of him. Roxton leaned against one of the stone pillars that circled the cave. His back was prone, his features tight. She knew he could hear nothing, see nothing. She sensed his fear. Surely a lack of knowledge for any hunter, and not just this fine specimen of one, would be horrifying. For Roxton, not knowing could eat him alive. The man was like a guilt-machine. It drove him further, longer, and stronger. Damned if he could live on that solely.

She made a pact right there and then. She would let him go first. It would break her heart but she could do it. Let him go first, that way he would feel no pain, nothing to further tarnish that near-perfect soul of his. She could do it alone; it was the way of her life really. She could go on without him, but he, and this she was frankly quite certain, couldn't handle it alone. It would hurt like a bitch, but she'll pull through.

He could die first.

The glistening light seemed to dissipate just a touch, and there beyond any rational thought the whole world seemed to disappear. The stone pillars were gone, the stone ring she was on had disappeared, it felt as if she was floating. It would have been perfect if she had not felt the hint of wind. She was moving, and rather fast indeed. She braced herself mentally for a thump that never came. Her features, her whole body, were tight and curled into a ball. She slammed open her eyes to see just what happened. She was in a dark room. It was rather large, and held a slight echo when she coughed abruptly. George was in the corner, snoring rather loudly. Damned if that man could sleep through anything.

"You all right there Challenger?" Marguerite said interrupting the pleasant sleep of her fellow explorer.

"Just a few bumps a bruises really quite a miracle, or a bit of good luck." Responded the tired professor.

You think whatever you want, George. How's your head?" the heiress inquired.

But before Marguerite could hear her answer a short shimmer appeared right next to her. Marguerite spun and shifted her hand. She thrust her hand into the glean and it felt like a great weight being crammed into this tiny shimmering wall. She tossed her fear aside, and looked into this mirror-like apparition. She spotted a hat, and shot her hands through the odd-portal like thing. She was forced to move her entire body away from the shimmering light, as her hands were still bound behind her back. It was an odd manoeuvre, but she figured it was worth it.

She immediately palmed a sizable amount of something or other. She felt around until she heard a distinguishable grunt, and yanked as hard as she could. Out of the phenomenon came a rather bedraggled form of Roxton. He landed with a thump, and sprawled over the form of Marguerite.

Unknowing of Challenger's crazed expression and even his presence, Roxton took full advantage of the situation. He pressed lightly along the length of the disgruntled heiress, silently thanking her for the cushioning. He flipped her lightly, and was met by rueful but thankful eyes. He saw that flame in her eyes once again. They secretly dared him taunt him, to take what was so accessible. They also warned him not to. The damned woman was confusing to say the least. He supported his weight on his elbows and continued the torturing eye contact. He visibly startled when she licked her delicate lips and lifted her head to the base of his ear.

A short breathy whisper of "Challenger" had left him out of breath. He almost doubled over.

He lowered his head slightly, to rest his forehead against her arm, and readied himself. She laughed almost manically as he pushed the hat back on his head, and sat upright.

The scientist shook his head, and uttered a rather loud "good heavens" as he cleared his throat. She'll be the death of him, Challenger was sure of it.

"Thank you very much, Marguerite."

Oh, anytime John." The heiress said between lowered lids, and a soft hand resting on his leg. She really was having a good time. Nothing like torture to bring out the best in people.

There was one time on this damned plateau that she would have tossed him like a heap of bricks. Those harsh times had very long since gone and the hunter was sure glad of it. The way she cradled his body with her own, her short breathy gasp as he leaned further into her, and the sweet way she chuckled slightly were all burned in his memory. Damn the woman. Her scent was etched into his memory, he was surely a goner.

"You all right there old boy?" Roxton said with a slight grunt to his voice. Marguerite could tell he was blocking a few choice emotions. His body already responding to hers in the most obvious ways. His hat did wonders to block a few prying eyes.

"Great Scott, Man. Where have you been?" Challenger said as he tried to fain that the previous moments just didn't happen. It was a great charade for all involved.

"I have no idea there George. One moment I was blinded by some very harsh lights, "Roxton said as his voiced lowered somewhat, "Marguerite goes and disappears on me, I find myself somewhere hovering over a great range of mountains. I was a good 50 feet off the ground, heading for some cliff. I could hear this strange rhythmic song. And then I feel some weird tug, I'm assuming that was you Marguerite" the hunter said as he nodded in the heiress direction.

"Well obviously we're experiencing those climatic shifts once again. I wonder what started this series of shifts. I really should have my equipment with me." The scientist said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

Yes George, that's what we need to escape whatever hell hole we happened upon. Not to mention guns, Veronica and Ned, clean clothes? A stiff drink?" the heiress said rolling her eyes at the scientist. He took no notice as usual except for a faint shake of his head.

"Well you're in a decent mood, how is your leg?" Roxton inquired rather briskly.

"Oh it's just fine. These cuffs however, I could do without." Marguerite replied without any venom in her voice. She favoured the hunter with a slight smile, and eyed his injuries. "Still got your hat I see."

That I do Marguerite. What of this little paradise I've stumbled into?" Roxton said as he lifted his hat and waived it briskly in the air.

Aren't you the explorer extraordinaire?" Replied the woman.

Roxton nodded slowly, and then got to his feet in a great huff of effort. Marguerite groaned because she couldn't exactly pull him back down. It's not exactly the brightest idea to go gallivanting off into the depths of a mysterious new cave that they had just as mysteriously drifted into. Especially when they had no guns or weapons of any kind, and one of their members was bound in iron. Iron that was meant to keep demons from escaping. Really she had to get these things off of her. But Marguerite knew when the fight was useless. If she was in danger, and Roxton was not dead or seriously injured, the man would not sit still.

"Challenger? You don't think... this cave can't have any... Um. Hallucinogenic qualities?"

Even to Marguerite her voice sounded raspy and weary. Certainly tinged with fear. She seriously needed to re-hone her skills if she was ever to work again.

"I would need to take samples to get any clear data from these rather unseemly mosses, but I don't think they're laced with any of that rather interesting gloop that Summerlee had brought us back. If that was indeed to what you were referring, Marguerite."

"Gloop, how very scientific George." Marguerite said once her fear had abided and she once again spotted the ragged hunter a little off into the distance.

Roxton? I think you should come back a while." Marguerite shouted into the darkness. When she didn't hear a reply, Marguerite grumbled and twisted into a weird formation. Challenger was just about to comment when the heiress used this new position to get herself upright once more. Not being able to use her hands really was an inconvenience. She had to practically plant her face in the dirt, get on her knees and upchuck slightly to right herself. Can't have been comfortable.

The scientist watched as the heiress hobbled slightly over to the latest location of the tireless hunter. There was no stopping those two really.

"John?" Marguerite called into a crevasse shooting out of the main room where Challenger was. "Roxton, where are you?"

Right here, Marguerite." Came the reply. His voice was echoed somewhat and it came from her left. She followed the sound of his continued voice, words she couldn't quite make out but knew the origin. She followed his baritone into another offshoot of the main room.

"I said I've found water. Care for a bath?"

Hot springs?" Marguerite said as she finally found the hunter crouched at the base of a massive waterfall which pooled into a deep pool.

There's a hot one, and a cool one. Really got your order right eh."

Oh, my my." Marguerite said as she eyed the water devilishly. This was turning out to be a very good day indeed.

"Don't call Challenger just yet John. I've got a bit of a predicament." She said as she flashed her irons once again, and raised an eyebrow.

"Need a little help, Marguerite?"

I swear Roxton if you-"

Perfect Gentleman, I swear."

The hunter got up from his spot and approached the weary explorer. She could feel his penetrating stare. Something was going to happen and her body was preparing her for it. Tiny goose bumps formed all over her body, and she could swear a blush crept under her skin.

The look in his eye was pure hunter. Pure stealth and honed muscles.

He heard her mumble something; it came out breathy and jumbled. Then she titled her head and widened her eyes slightly. "Check. On. George." Clearly they were to have no interruptions this time.

Roxton rounded the corner at nearly breakneck speed. The anticipation of just whatever would happen had him running like a bull in a china shop. No reporter, scientist, or jungle princess was going to interrupt this little scenario.

Marguerite listened for his retreating footsteps and then let a wide smile christen her face. She got down on her knees in another awkward way, and waded into the warm spring. Another bright smile fixed on her face, and she swore this was heaven. She tilted back her head and wet her long hair. The braid had come undone quite a while ago, and her hair had sprung wild and loose. She knew the look Roxton gave her when it was down, this crazed half-loved starved look. She could live for that look alone.

As Marguerite remerged into the dark crisp cave air, she saw a slightly disappointed Roxton staring down at her. She shot him a questionable stare.

"Old boy's taking a nap. Told him to stay put, although doubt he's happy about that."

Roxton shrugged slightly and then plunged quickly into the pool.

Marguerite's shrieks of indignation went unheard as he emerged breaths away from her.

He placed both hands gingerly at her waist and held her above water.

"Legs are going to get tired." He offered as an excuse so she could claim she had one. The little games they played.

He kissed her softly and without caution. She gasped slightly into the dense foggy air. The water was emanating a steam that coated their skin like a soft caress. It really was quite lovely in there.

She locked eyes and gave him a weary look as one hand lifted slightly to thumb a shirt button.

"Need clean clothes and all."

A wry little smile formed at her lips and she replied in kind. "Wouldn't be caught without them"

They nodded in unison, and both his hands deftly undid her buttons. Once her shirt was removed and placed at the rocky ledge, he held her against him and undid her camisole. He was thanking god that it opened at the back. She rested her legs by perching on his offered knee, and he continued to press her against him for a lovely time. She blushed solidly as he removed her skirt.

Pity we don't have soap."

* * *


End file.
